


Cut

by Zombiiewrites



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-13
Updated: 2014-04-13
Packaged: 2018-01-19 06:06:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1458712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zombiiewrites/pseuds/Zombiiewrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Destiel!Purgatory Fic.<br/>- - - - - - - - - - - - - </p>
<p>"I told you not to do that," Dean whispers huskily.</p>
<p>"And I told you to be careful," Castiel counters easily, swiping his thumb along the other man’s cheek and silently searching his eyes for anymore defiance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cut

They had dealt with Leviathan before and they had dealt with Vampires before; however, they had never taken them on together. It was rare for creatures here to band together but it wasn’t off limits. There were no rules here, no peace, no understanding. There was only survival—kill or be killed.

They were in Purgatory. 

These Vampires were no ordinary band. They were familiar—to Benny, anyways. Regardless of what their prior affiliation may have been, they were hostile now.

Sensing their acquaintanceship as a weakness to his companions, Benny purposely began to stray. He saw that Dean and Cas had their hands full with the Leviathan triple threat closing in around them and made the bold decision to distance himself for the time being. It wasn’t permanent by any means—just a way to get some of the heat off. 

"You boys going to be alright on your own for a while?" Benny is already taking a couple steps backwards, eyes shifting between the hunter and angel and the top of the hill they had just descended. 

"Benny…" Dean growls, still actively gauging their surroundings while glancing at the Vampire out of the corner of his eye. "I know you’ve been in here a while but splitting up is never a good idea. Jeepers Creepers? Hatchet? Any of the Jason movies? Any of this ringing a bell? Dean grumbles condescendingly, twisting quickly at the sound of a snapping branch somewhere up ahead.

Benny just smiles, rolling his eyes some while pulling his knife from its holster. “Right. Well, you’ll have to trust me on this one,” Benny insists, giving Dean a firm stare before stepping towards the foot of the hill. “See y’all down by the river,” Benny practically croons, turning his back and smirking at the two over his shoulder. 

That’s there agreement; if they ever get separated, they are supposed to follow the river. They’ve never done so intentionally before but Dean is confident in Benny’s abilities. Right now, they have bigger problems on their hands—three bigger problems to be exact. 

Dean’s eyes find Cas’ once the top of Benny’s head is out of sight. There are no words between them, but the looks they exchange speak volumes. Months of fighting alongside the Winchester brothers has caused Castiel to sync with the reckless but effective technique.

Given their current foe and the fact that they were outnumbered, Castiel reaches for his knife. Even with his angelic powers restored, he doesn’t want to be left without something to fall back on. Dean is already brandishing his axe blade and gripping the handle tight. 

The air around them thickens as the Leviathans advance towards them. “Be careful, Dean,” Castiel lets out lowly, taking note of the downright predatory expression on the hunter’s face. His eyebrows are knit together tight, dirt smeared and speckled across his handsome face, and jaw clenched firmly.

Even before their encounter with the Leviathan-Vampire duo, Dean was having one of his bad days. He was in a sour mood—tired and frustrated with their daily routine and temporarily unable to recognize their short-term progress in finding the seam. The eldest Winchester isn’t exactly one for talking things out so the only option is to give him space and be there on the off chance that he does want to vent. At least, that’s what they would have done had they not been ambushed by the very things they were running from. 

Castiel can tell from the first hurl of Dean’s blade that he is channeling his anger into every swing. Each slice is more powerful than the last but is severely lacking in terms of precision. The Leviathan move fast so each miss generally results in a devastating blow. The beasts are hard to overpower but not impossible. Unfortunately, Dean is becoming so driven by pure adrenaline that all tact and strategy goes out the window. 

Near the beginning of the fight, the two of them manage to back one of the suited monsters up against a tree while keeping the other two at bay. Dean lifts his weapon with false purpose, already seeing Castiel reaching the moment the Leviathan’s attention is put on the hunter. It’s face morphs into it’s true form just before Cas’ hand wraps around the being’s scalp and illuminates him inside and out. 

The other two Leviathan are racing towards them now, looking even more fearsome than before once they realize they are down a man. Cas and Dean exchange glances and a moment later, they are back to back with only a few steps between them. Castiel takes a defensive stance, dodging and ducking expertly, eyes and hands actively seeking the perfect opportunity to make his move. 

Gradually, the Leviathan manage to lure the two away from one another. Cas is near the riverbed and Dean is backtracking towards the trees. Castiel tenses, knowing the further they stray the harder it will be to keep tabs on one another. His concerns are interrupted when the Leviathan he’s facing morphs and lunges towards him. Cas ducks and sidesteps quickly, not noticing the thick mud that has formed along the water until he is knee deep in it. When he looks up, there is panic in his eyes—he is stuck and the Leviathan is already recovering it’s stumble.

Dean looks down in time to see Cas attempting to pull himself from the mud’s suction and the monster stalking towards the angel. “Cas!” he cries out, unaware that his own enemy has closed the distance between them. The hunter lets out another cry, this one raw with pain and surprise, when the Leviathan slashes him across the gut with a makeshift weapon made up of a sharpened rock and a wooden handle, tied together with splintering twine. The pointed rock penetrates his abdomen easily, cutting in deep towards his navel. His hands are on the wound in an instant, applying pressure as he takes a few steps back and releases a jagged breath. 

Castiel looks up in time to see crimson seeping out between Dean’s fingers. His entire body seizes, the blues of his eyes just rings around his heavily dilated pupils now, and a second later he has not only torn himself from the grip of the swamp-like ground but he has a hand clamped down over the snapping Leviathan before him. Light erupts from within the being, temporarily brightening the darkening forest around them. The moment the body hits the floor, Castiel is sprinting up the hill, teeth gnashed and nostrils flaring. 

Dean’s vision blurs and he struggles to regain his footing on the slanted terrain. The Leviathan continues to force him back, all the while throwing punches. Every contact leaves Dean more and more disoriented. Blood oozes over his philtrum and outlines the edges of his teeth, filling his mouth with a strong, copper taste. A few more steps back and he finds himself up against the monstrous trunk of a nearby tree. The Leviathan cracks it’s knuckles and leans in, it’s forked tongue and razor sharp teeth glistening and snapping anxiously. 

The crackle of leaves and heaving breaths from behind are the only thing that keeps it from devouring the hunter right there and then. The beast twists around unnaturally and Dean, despite the pain, pulls one hand away from his stomach to swing his blade diagonally across the Leviathan’s back and clean across the nape it’s neck on the back swing. It’s head teeters forward momentarily before falling densely to the dirt below and tumbling down towards the base of the hill. 

The body falls to it’s knees shortly after and slumps to the ground, allowing Castiel’s stunned expression to come into view. With the threat eliminated, Dean’s face softens and his knees go weak. He practically falls forward into Cas’ arms and the angel is more than ready to catch him when he does. 

Gulping heavily, Castiel grips the hunter tight and looks around at their surroundings to gauge the direction they should be heading in. “Just hold on,” Cas whispers, hoisting the larger man up as best he can while carefully descending the hill. 

After nearly three quarters of a mile of half dragging-half carrying Dean along the river, the pair come upon a small cave. Castiel carefully sets Dean down just outside of the daunting formation and positions him up against the outer wall into the upright position. “Let me see,” Cas murmurs, his voice soft and eyes glossy with concern. 

Dean cranes his neck backwards and clenches his jaw as he removes his hand from the gash across his stomach. His eyes screw shut and his lips part to accommodate for the hitched breaths blowing past them. “Shhh,” Cas reassures, gently soothing a hand over his hunter’s forehead and hair, smearing some of the dirt there. 

They have a deal—that Cas isn’t supposed to waste his energy dealing with injuries—but seeing Dean like this is too much; he needs to give him at least some relief. 

Wordlessly, the angel places his hand against the other man’s cheek and one against his stomach. Dean’s eyes squint open and he raises a hand to try to push Cas off of him but ultimately just clamps it around his wrist as the warmth of his grace courses through him.

It is gone as quickly as it came. Castiel has only healed him minimally—enough to stop the bleeding, close it, and make some of the pain subside. 

"I told you not to do that," Dean whispers huskily.

"And I told you to be careful," Castiel counters easily, swiping his thumb along the other man’s cheek and silently searching his eyes for anymore defiance.

Dean’s strength is still depleted but he is able to move on his own now with just minor assistance from Cas. They venture into the cave together, their shuffling footsteps only challenged by the echoing sound of dripping water. There are only two corridors in the structure—one of them being the main one that they walked in through and the other containing the source of the water drip.

Water seeps in through the holes overhead and glides along the rocky ceiling of the cave before dripping into the pool of water below. It’s not much, but it’s more than they had. 

Castiel eases Dean onto the floor nearby and shrugs off his trenchcoat before placing it on the chilled ground and hunching over to delicately guide the stubborn hunter into laying down. Cas disappears after that, but only for a moment. When he returns, he’s cradling a bundle of sticks under one arm and grasping a handful of rocks in the opposite hand.

Cas has been here for a while and even without permitted use of his powers, he is able to build a decent fire in a matter of minutes. “Take off your clothes. I need to cool you down.” Castiel’s tone doesn’t leave much room for argument. He noticed Dean breaking out into a sweat long before the fire was built and doesn’t need to touch his forehead to know that he has sprung a fever on account of the injury he suffered.

Dean just stares at the other for a moment, green eyes searching the angel’s tired blues for any sign of talking Cas out of his demands but ultimately, he concedes. In a matter of minutes, Dean is stark naked and sprawled out on top of the trenchcoat. Castiel admires him, watching as the shadowed flames dance across his battle hardened body, the light of which amplifies and reflects off of the glistening film of sweat covering him. 

Cas seats himself between Dean and the pool with a damp cloth in hand—one fashioned from the lower portion of one of his pant legs—and wrings it out over the water before turning back to delicately slide it across Dean’s cheek and forehead. He cups the side of his face through the thin material and gazes down at him with pure adoration when the hunter’s eyes finally close peacefully from the tender sensations. 

Gradually, Castiel runs the cloth downwards along his jaw and neck. A small smile graces the angel’s lips at the feeling of Dean’s pulse beneath his fingertips and only widens when he catches sight of the rare, relaxed expression that is now plastered on the other’s face. He continues to wash him at the same slow pace, taking his time dripping water over his chest and stomach and watching as the little streams follow the pronounced lines of his taut abdomen and defined pectorals. 

"I missed you so much." The words spill from Dean’s lips in a tired, relaxed whisper and when Castiel looks up at him, his eyes are still shut. 

Castiel delicately slides the cloth over the hunter’s powerful thighs and gently grazes his flaccid manhood with his fingertips as he works his way towards his calves. “I missed you too, Dean,” Cas replies after a moment. Slowly, Castiel begins to work his way back up and notes the way Dean’s body quivers as he nears his genitals again. He bypasses his groin and slides the wet material over the hunter’s stomach to clean around his wound a bit more thoroughly. The skin around the gash is red and tender so Cas uses extra precaution whenever he grazes over it. 

"I wish I could make the pain go away," Castiel murmurs after a long silence, staring at the cut as though his gaze alone will will it better. It’s more frustrating because he knows he has the ability to heal him at that very moment but it’s too risky. 

Castiel has already killed two Leviathan today—not to mention the lesser opponents they faced in the early morning. Considering that and patching up Dean, it wouldn’t be wise to continue testing his boundaries. If something were to attack now or during the night, he’d be useless. 

Dean smiles at Castiel’s sweet words and even sweeter tone, eyes still shut and breathing still tranquil. “Just let those angel batteries of yours recharge. Without Benny, we can’t risk it,” Dean says. Cas is so focused on Dean’s injury that he doesn’t notice the other man’s hand inching towards his own. When Dean touches his and gently brings it up to his lips, the angel’s shoulders shrug and his eyebrows slope upwards. 

"If…when we get out of here, I’m going to be so good to you," Dean whispers gruffly in between the kisses he’s placing against Cas’ calloused fingertips, “no more hiding, sneaking around." He knows Castiel doesn’t care about making things official or not, but Dean’s made up his mind. Castiel can appreciate that; however, he is weary. It’s easy to say now, here, but things change when Sam is in the picture. It’s not a negative thing—but it’s something Cas has come to expect and accept. Dean struggles enough with trying to protect his brother and Castiel never wants to become his burden, his weakness. He doesn’t want it to be a competition. No one needs to replace anyone, no one needs to be second. They can just…be.

Still, the thought is nice. The desire to be wanted—to be needed is not exclusive to humankind.

Castiel cups the other man’s cheek and stares down at him with an affectionate gaze, smiling when Dean turns his head into his hand and presses a kiss into his palm. “Are you always this affectionate after near death experiences?” Cas asks, exhaling amusedly through his nose; he’s joking mostly but there is always some sincerity to his questions. Dean just responds with a breathy laugh of his own and slowly interlaces their fingers before gingerly tugging the angel down to his level.

Castiel hovers above him for a moment and stares into Dean’s haggard eyes, noting the deep unfamiliar wrinkles stemming from his canthi, the thin, now permanent, laugh lines that bracket his rough, unkempt stubble—How long has it been?

Castiel’s breath catches in his throat and Dean takes it as his cue to cup the back of the angel’s head and close the distance between them. The hunter’s chapped lips graze against Castiel’s full ones before they kiss, light and savory at first but gradually growing bolder. Dean’s affections are as firm and protective as always, almost desperate. His fingers knead eagerly against the other man’s scalp, tousling and tensing in his coarse hair while his mouth claims Castiel’s insistently.

Even when they part for much needed breaths, Castiel can taste Dean on his tingling lips. He peers at his lover through half-lidded eyes before he is tugged down for another hungry kiss. This time, Dean wastes no time pushing his tongue past Cas’ swollen lips to claim his mouth once again. He swirls his tongue against Castiel’s in a sensual, dominating manner while his hands venture lower to pull at his clothing and grope his backside through his tattered scrubs. Dean pulls away only to tug Cas’ shirt over his head but the moment it’s discarded, he latches onto his neck and slides his lips across his throat ardently. He can feel Castiel’s Adam’s apple bob against his tongue with every harsh gulp as he swipes and sucks at the sensitive mound there until it’s bruised along with the rest of his neck.

The scratch of Dean’s stubble against his skin makes the angel hum and shudder, his head craning backwards to give the younger man more room to explore. And Dean does. He tastes every inch of his angel’s newly exposed skin and slides his hands up his sides to rest against his ribs, holding him there firmly when his mouth finds one of his nipples. Castiel arches above him, groaning through his teeth as Dean flicks his tongue against the hardening nub and rubs his thumbs against his prominent hip bones.

“Pants. Off,” Dean grunts, already making his way to the other side of his chest to toy with the opposite nipple. Castiel obliges with only a moment of hesitation and sits up on his knees, tangling one hand in his own hair and hooking the thumb of his other hand beneath the waistband of his teal scrubs. Cas tugs them down slightly until the little, dark curls of his pubic hairs are visible and the rest of his sinfully perfect hipbones are exposed.

“Fuck, baby…” Dean whispers, propping himself on his elbows and shamelessly raking his eyes over the gorgeous man straddling his lap. The blond swallows heavily, only then realizing how dry his throat is. Cas barely manages to pull his bottoms below the curve of his ass before Dean is tugging him back down and crushing their lips together once again. Their teeth clink together once before Dean soothes his tongue against them, bracing the back of Cas’ head with one hand and pushing himself up simultaneously. Now sitting up, Dean reaches behind the other man and slides his hands down his muscled back before grabbing two handfuls of his plump ass and rolling the soft globes of flesh fervently. Castiel moans out softly at the attention and places both hands against Dean’s firm chest before bumping their foreheads together and nudging his nose against his partner’s.

Dean’s body is cold against his own but as they continue their sensual grind and roll, Cas still straddling Dean’s lap in the sitting position, they both begin to warm up quickly. Castiel looks down to watch as both of their aching cocks slide against one another, having to bite his lip at the sight just to keep from moaning. Dean is already leaking so much, making both of their members glisten with pre-come. Cas reaches down between them and slides his fingers over his lover’s swollen member, scooping up as much of the sticky substance as he can before reaching behind to prep himself. Dean watches the act with squinted eyes and parted lips—the way the angel’s face contorts, how his eyes fall shut, and a little gasp escapes his lips, it all leaves Dean speechless.

He doesn’t even realize he’s holding his breath until Cas moans out, sitting back on two of his fingers and scissoring them himself. Dean keeps his eyes on his face but slowly wraps one hand around the brunette’s throbbing cock, swiping his thumb over the head twice before beginning to pump him at a slow, firm pace. “Dean,” he whispers, exhaling jaggedly and letting out a noise crossed between a moan and a whine. That sound goes straight to Dean’s cock and he finds himself moaning back in response.

When Castiel reaches a point where his fingers will not suffice, he pulls his hand away and sits up again to position himself over Dean’s manhood. The hunter stills him with a hand on his hip and spits into his other hand before soothing it over his length—it’s not ideal but they are both so desperate for it, he doubts Cas will mind the initial pain. A few strokes later and Cas is lowering himself onto Dean’s rigid dick until it disappears fully inside of him. They both groan out at the mixed sensation; Cas hasn’t even moved yet but Dean feels like he is already nearing his climax.

“Feels so good, Cas,” Dean whispers, now leaning back against the cave wall and stretching his legs out so Castiel can move as he pleases. His hands are on the dark-haired man’s hips but don’t dare guide him—it’s not like Cas needs help anyways.

It’s a slow build up but soon Castiel lifting and lowering himself, sweet moans flowing from his pink lips every time he’s filled and desperate whimpers leaving him each time he’s empty. “You’re gonna’ be good to me? When we’re out of here?” Cas pants, repeating Dean’s words and sliding his hands down his shoulders to rest against his pecs. The flushed look on the angel’s face, the adoration in his cracking voice—Dean just drinks it up.

“So good, baby. So, so good,” Dean whispers back breathlessly, his hands still resting against Castiel’s hips as the other man rides him. He can tell that Cas is being cautious because of his injury, but the way he clamps down around him at just the right time, the way his fingertips graze his nipples, and the subtle dirty talk more than makes up or the lack of speed.

Castiel brings one of his hands up to cup his lover’s cheek and Dean turns into it like before, pressing gently kisses to his palm, uncaring of the dirt between the angel’s fingertips or the blood and cuts on both of their bodies. Cas sits back on him when he feels his own orgasm building in the pit of his belly and moans as Dean sinks in, the head of his cock pressing right up against his sweet spot. For a moment, the brunette sits there and selfishly grinds himself into the sensation, practically drooling as the pleasure continues to mount.

Seeing Castiel like that makes Dean growl lustfully and sink his fingers into his lover’s hips before gently beginning to buck up into him. Considering Dean’s injury, this catches Castiel severely off guard. Part of him wants to scold Dean for overexerting himself but he can’t bring himself to do it—not when those green eyes lock on him and that perfect cock is slamming up directly against his prostate. “Right there, angel? Right there?” Dean whispers with lustful enthusiasm, feeling as though he’s about to blow when he sees Castiel just nod desperately in response. Cas’ mouth falls slack as pleasure rips through him through a combination of the intense pounding and the friction of his manhood grinding against both of their stomach. He comes hard, spilling his seed on both of their stomachs, and clamps down even harder when Dean thrusts in again.

Dean grits his teeth and clenches his jaw, gasping as the tight walls come down around his thrusting length, causing the most deliciously tight friction. He snaps his hips upwards only twice more before he reaches his peak and generously coats his lover’s insides with white. Cas sighs and gasps at the soothing sensation while Dean grips at him tight and grunts out loudly with each eruption of come. Almost immediately, the hunter slumps against the wall, still buried deep in his partner as he rides out the final waves of his orgasm. The fact that Castiel tenses every time he feels his cock twitch within him makes Dean smirk with satisfaction. As Cas carefully lifts himself off of his softening manhood, Dean reaches out to keep him close and presses a kiss to the other man’s lips when he leans in.

“Love you,” Dean mumbles tiredly against Castiel’s lips, unable to recall the last time he actually said those words to him. Purgatory made minutes feel like and eternity and an eternity feel like minutes.

“I love you too, Dean,” Cas sighs with a smile.

The fire is going strong and has warmed up their corridor of the cave by the time they are both satisfied. The two of them sprawl out on Castiel’s trenchcoat nearby, watching as the shadows flicker against the ceiling and listening to the sounds of each other’s breathing as well as the steady drip of the water. It’s strangely peaceful that night but either of them know better than to question it.

Laying there with Cas against his chest in their surreal surroundings, sated from sex, and recovering from what was a severe injury, Dean just smiles and closes his eyes. Castiel watches him, as he often does, and takes the time to memorize the little changes in his face.

Castiel has already made the decision not to follow Dean out of Purgatory by this time, but he takes comfort in his lover’s promise to be good to him when they are together again. Like Dean and his dedication to his brother, Castiel knows he will be unable to function on the outside after what he has done. It will take time but he knows he can achieve peace once more. It’s that very thing that fuels him.

What he can do for Dean in Purgatory will never make up for what he put him through during his transformation but it’s a start.


End file.
